Fantastic Dreams Born In Rye
by American Gelato
Summary: Lithuania is just happy to be with Poland, regardless of the boy's antics. Poland, however, is worried about what will happen in the future. After all, being a commonwealth does come with icy, macabre enemies that want to destroy it. So, Lithuania takes it upon himself to assure him that they will always start and always end up with each other, no matter what happens in-between.


**A/N: I know, I said I would finish Ginger Spice and Everything Nice by today, but… I'm lazy :P So maybe you'll forgive me if I post this instead. Pwetty pwease? I twied rweawy hawrd on it *sparkly eyes*. Enjoy ;D**

The sky was a wonderful gradient of creamy orange and pale yellow, as if it were iced with fluffy confectionary icing by a careful and practiced hand. The clouds were whipped up into scattered, puffy masses with the slightest tinge of pink, and the finishing touch was a golden, shimmering disk that was the sun. It radiated beams of waning light, straining to touch every bit of the countryside before it would recede into the hills for the day.

The countryside was a homely quilt of ripe greens and dry tans, each block of color stitched with rows of crops, ready to be harvested for the encroaching winter. The small cottages that speckled the expanse of fresh, untainted land were beginning to sound their dinner bells to their inhabitants out in the pastures. The twinkles and clangs and rings of all kind sounded just above whispers, the wind soon dissipating them. The cattle and mares were unfazed, however, and continued their steady and nearly constant feeding as their owners rushed to the waiting meals of chicken stew, fresh milk, and bread and butter.

Two petite figures, young in body but sophic in mind, continued to bask in the impending end of another autumn day. One, with hair the color of milky, melted chocolate that barely reached his shoulders, and eyes as blue as a clear summer sky, was crouched down, gathering tall stalks of rye in an attempt to expedite the fall harvest, if only by a seemingly insignificant amount. His forehead shimmered slightly with a thin sheen of sweat, proof that the day was put to good use. His thin, white flannel shirt, decorated with two straight lines of six total royal blue roses clung to his arms in dark, sweaty patches, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbow to prevent them from protruding into his line of work. A thin, chestnut strip of cloth he wore around the collar was flipped over his shoulder for the time being. He wore a lightweight olive green vest over his shirt, making his back in particular quite sweaty, though he was too preoccupied with work to notice. His pants were a darker coffee color that were tied at the waist by a matching patterned sash, given to him by his friend and crush since childhood, who not only gifted it for the purpose of keeping his pants in their proper place, but because it was, like, _totally_ in style.

Said love interest was standing only a few feet away, at the very edge of the slope they were harvesting on. His champagne-colored hair, which was about the same length as the other's, shifted and seemed to float lazily in the evening breeze. Even though his back was to him, the first boy, whom we now know was named Lithuania, could tell that those bright, almost luminescent green eyes were clouded with distant thoughts as they stared, unmoving, at the sun as it continued to slide out of sight behind the rolling hills. He also wore a white flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, but the front of his was decorated with a pattern of six cinnabar-hued roses, each lined up vertically on either side of the buttons running down the center of his shirt, three on one side, three on the other. Around the collar of the shirt was a red ribbon that was knotted intricately in the shape of a rose. His pants were, again, a deep cinnabar color, tied with a matching sash of equal style to Lithuania's.

Lithuania set his gathered rye down into the pile with the other stalks, deciding to call it a day. He approached his friend from behind, the dead crops and grass crunching beneath his bare feet. Both boys had long ago abandoned their shoes, for they made their feet too sweaty, and rolled up their pant legs to just below their knees to keep the cuffs from becoming dirty. He also readjusted his cloth tie back to its proper position with the knot hanging just below the open shirt collar, glad it didn't get dirtied during the long hours of toiling over crops.

Even as Lithuania came to a stop at his right, the champagne-haired boy didn't even bat an eye. He continued to stare out at the uneven horizon; the ever present, ditzy smile that the Lithuanian boy had fallen in love with now seemed to hold another emotion. Want, maybe? Or was it… admiration?

"Hey Poland, watcha doin'?" Lithuania asked, genuinely curious.

Said boy turned slightly, facing his companion with a mischievous glint in his eye. Lithuania blushed, for not only did that expression look very cute on Poland, but it also meant he was going to do something quite embarrassing.

"Hey, Liet~!" Poland said in a sing-song voice, turning until he was fully facing the Lithuanian boy, a devilish smirk plastered on his face. He hunched over slightly, bending his legs, arms outstretched and hands taking the shape of claws. Before "Liet" could react, Poland pounced on him, legs wrapping around the boy's waist and arms circling his shoulders as his own slender hands clutched the back of the near identical shirt. Lithuania instantly lost his balance and toppled over, letting out a cry of surprise as he and Poland began to roll down the steep slope of the hill they had previously occupied.

They seemed to roll along forever. The only sounds were the crunching of dried grass, the occasional "Oof" from Lithuania, and the constant laughter and giggles spilling from Poland's mouth. They soon slowed to a stop after they passed the bottom of the hill, taking a few more tumbles before they halted completely. Lithuania ended up on the bottom with a still giggling Poland on top of him, burying his face in the other's shirt and clutching his shoulders as his body bounced with the escaping laughter.

Lithuania let out a sigh, shooting disgruntled looks at the top of Poland's head.

"Why… _Why_ did you do that? Now we have to climb all the way back up to get the rye before it gets dark, and I'm tired from all that work already!"

Poland let out a breathy sigh, wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes as he lifted his head to look at Lithuania.

"Come _on_, Liet! You gotta admit, that was _totally_ awesome."

"But the rye-"

"Screw the rye! It's, like, still gonna be there tomorrow, don't worry! Besides, I'd rather stay down here. It's _so_ much cooler."

Lithuania sighed, since it was obvious he had lost the moment they began tumbling down the hill. Poland was right, though. It was much cooler, since the sun was almost completely hidden from their current position. The sky was starting to become a deep, bloody red, and the clouds were now dyed with an almost purple hue. It was quite breathtaking, especially with the way the colors framed Poland's face from this position. Maybe he could stay here a little longer…

"Hey Liet?"

"Hmm?" he hummed, closing his eyes and allowing a small, content smile spread across his face as he basked in the cool breeze that swept its long fingers over their figures.

"Um, I'm sorry if I hurt you… I mean, like, from jumping on you and stuff. It _was_ kinda unexpected…"

Lithuania opened one of his eyes, then both, slightly startled at the solemn expression on Poland's face. He was even more baffled that he had apologized, since Poland was the kind of person to forget his mistakes without much of an endeavor. This meant that he usually didn't give a proper apology to most people, but they would soon forget it anyways, since Poland would change the topic too quickly for them to make a point of it. Lithuania used to think he did that to avoid punishment, but soon came to realize that that's just Poland, and no one could change _that_.

Lithuania smiled, a look of understanding and love on his face as he hugged Poland a little closer to his body.

"It's okay, it really didn't hurt. In fact… it was pretty fun."

Poland's face lit up immediately. "Really? That's, like, great! I'm glad."

Lithuania let out a pleased laugh, with Poland quickly joining in. They laid there for a while, smiling sincerely and gazing into each other's eyes. Lithuania was the first to break the silence.

"So, what were you thinking of? You seemed lost in thought."

Poland's eyes widened a fraction. It always surprised him when Lithuania asked about his inner musing. _Well, now's as good a time as ever to tell him_, he thought.

"Liet, we need to stick together. Like, always."

Blue eyes widened considerably at the spontaneous statement. Lithuania really didn't know how to respond to something so blunt.

Then again, nearly everything about Poland was blunt.

"Of course we will." Lithuania responded. Poland didn't seem satisfied, however.

"Liet." Lithuania started a bit at the seriousness of Poland's voice. "You know what I mean. We're a commonwealth now, and that's as close as two countries can be without becoming one or the other. It's a very special bond. Other countries try to _break_ this bond, because a commonwealth is very, _very_ powerful. You and I have conquered so much together; land, resources, villages, all of that. We've won so many battles. We even defeated that Prussia guy a number of times. But countries like Russia are looming in. He scares me, Liet." At this the slender Polish boy began to tremble. "He scares me a lot. I don't wanna lose you. I-I don't want him t-to take you a-away." He was whimpering now, biting his lower lip to try and stifle the wracking sobs and clenching his eyes to dam up the flow of tears.

Throughout his speech, Lithuania was stunned at how serious and no-nonsense Poland had become, and wanted to cry along with him. Despite Poland's seemingly disregard for "friends support each other", apparent in his easy dismissal of a friend's distress, Lithuania noticed that Poland never did it on purpose. It was his own method of making the person feel better through the whole ordeal by changing the subject or mocking their facial expressions, calling them "totally hilarious". Thought it isn't the most effective method, and is easily interpreted as being heartless, Lithuania learned to find the meaning behind the words. "Dude, you should've seen your face just then! You totally freaked out! Come on, chill, will you?" translated to "Come on, don't get upset. I hate seeing your face in so much pain. Just relax, it'll be okay, don't worry."

So when Poland's crying increased in volume and transformed into frightened sobbing, Lithuania sat himself up so that Poland's legs wrapped around his waist and his own crossed ones provided a seat for the Polish boy to sit in. The grip on the back of his shirt tightened as Poland buried his face into Lithuania's chest. The brown haired boy began to rub warm, soothing shapes up and down Poland's trembling back, kissing the top of his head and whispering sweet nothings into his silky champagne hair. What he hated was that Poland was right. Russia would definitely try to break their special bond. And if the macabre country continued to augment his power at his current rate, Lithuania had no doubt that he and Poland wouldn't stand a chance.

"Poland, if Russia or anyone else tears us apart from each other, I promise that I will find a way to get back to you. No matter how much I get hurt, no matter how long it takes, we'll be together again, okay? Don't cry, Poland. Please stop crying. It makes me wanna cry, too."

Poland lifted his head from the ever expanding wet daub that he had created on Lithuania's blue rose shirt. His eyes were droopy, red, and swollen, giving him the appearance of recovering from an eye infection. Mucus threatened to run down his upper lip in transparent, sticky trails. His normally smirking lips were contorted into the cutest accentuated pout Lithuania had ever seen. With a sad smile, Lithuania slipped off his ratty brown tie and used it to clean Poland's face, starting with the mucus and moving to the drying tear tracks on his rosy cheeks, ending with the water droplets that had collected in Poland's eyelashes.

During the process, Poland had lowered his gaze to the stitched roses on his friend's shirt, tracing them with his pointer finger. Starting with the center of each, he slowly slipped his finger over the threads, spiraling outwards to the final petal, repeating the process on the next rose. Lithuania sighed, melting at Poland's gentle, fragile touch. When he got to the fourth rose, Poland looked up to meet relaxed, beryl eyes.

"We should, like, conquer all of Europe." Poland said, expressionless.

"And unite to defeat Russia." Lithuania continued, a small smile appearing on his face.

"And discover new lands." Poland's smile grew, knowing where this was heading towards.

"Create our own religion, where anyone can do whatever they want and not be persecuted!"

"And name it the Polish-Lithuanian Church of Legitness!"

"Um, I think you mean the _Lithuanian_-Polish Church of Legitness."

"I know what I said, and it was my idea, so my name is totally in front of yours!"

"It wasn't your idea, it was mine!"

"Like, was not!"

"Was too!"

"Poland's Rule applies, I automatically win, Liet~!"

"Hey, no fair! At least let my name be first in our religion, and your name can be first in our country's title."

"Hmm… Only if we can call it 'The Polish-Lithuanian _Land_ of Legitness~! Promise?"

"Promise."

The two petite figures, young in body but sophic in mind, continued with their jejune bantering, yet both held their oath pressed against their hearts as they held each other even closer. The now inky sky, spangled with collections of ever glittering stars, created a whimsical atmosphere, making their pact even more precious.

Suddenly, the encroaching winter didn't seem so frightening after all.

**A/N: Reviews are lovely~**


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